When I first met Paul Greenberg in 1963, we both had the same first name: First Lieutenant. To fulfill an ROTC commitment for two years of Reserves service, after I finished my tour of active duty in the United States Army, I joined the Army Reserve 489th Engineer Battalion.
The unit did its monthly training in an Army Reserve Training Center near Townsend Park in Pine Bluff. First Lt. Greenberg was doing the same. I met him during my first "drill" at the training center. As a bonus, he introduced me to his buddy, 1st Lt. Henry Marx, who was also fulfilling his ROTC obligation. Paul, Henry and I remained friends.
The one thing that really stood out about Paul was that after a few minutes, we were talking like we had known each other all our lives. I credit that to Paul, who had that personal magnetism, which lubricated moving from total strangers to friends in a very short period of time. We continued to visit on each drill session. During those discourses, it never came out that he was the editorial writer for The Commercial.
After a few months, I left the 489th and joined a National Guard unit. In so doing, my frequent visits with Paul came to a screeching halt.
Fast forward a few years. As a part of my business, I handled political campaigns for candidates and issues for several years. That's when my familiarity with Paul was rekindled. In those days, The Commercial never shied away from endorsing a given candidate that, in the opinion of the editor and publisher, were the best choices for this community.
The endorsement normally came shortly before the election and was more or less the three-fold Amen to a litany of editorials supporting the future endorsee and/or politely disparaging the worthy opponent or issue during the campaign.
It was during one of those campaigns that he zeroed in on some copy I had written advocating the issue I was hired to promote. I felt his stinger and felt it well. After calming down from my boiling point, I had to admit to myself that it was his job to skewer my poor choice of words, which in reality could translate to "hit me if you can find an opening."
For that raking over the coals, I still owe Hisself Paul Greenberg a great deal of thanks. He taught me a bitter lesson about choosing my words carefully, and we remained friends.
Over the years we agreed on some campaigns and disagreed on others. On a couple of occasions, we even had conversations regarding issues on which we were in opposition. Our conversations were between two friends who respected the other without regard to opposing positions.
The last time I saw Paul was years ago during a Pine Bluff civic club meeting. This was a few years after he left The Commercial and had joined the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette. After his introduction he was given the obligatory and polite round of applause by an audience that was peppered with individuals with whom he crossed swords.
At the conclusion of his remarks, the audience in its entirety gave him a lengthy standing ovation. It was a testimonial to his integrity. I was pleased to be on my feet for my friend.
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Joe Dempsey has been in the advertising and communications business in Pine Bluff for more than 40 years.